For the want of a Jacket
by Skyeblux
Summary: "We're married!...But we can't be married!...It's a conundrum!"  Smut with a bit of a plot and a bit of heart, Cliché Ten/Rose
1. Chapter 1

Title: For the want of a Jacket

Rating: Adult

Warnings: Swearing and explicit sex

Genre: Smut with a bit of a plot and a bit of heart, Cliché

Summary: "We're married!...But we can't be married!...It's a conundrum!"

Chapter 1

"Why am I banged up this time?"

Rose fidgeted and fought the urge to scratch at the incessant irritation of the yellow one-piece, jumpsuit that seemed to be woven from a Hessian like material, much more uncomfortable even than the jaggy rim of her old sun hat.

The Doctor smiled in response to her 'Devil may care attitude' and her obvious trust that this was nothing more than a passing inconvenience in the quirky, topsy-turvy world of Time travel.

"Apparently we're married!" A faint blush blossomed under his averted eye lids.

"What? Again?" Rose laughed.

"Ah well, alien planet, alien customs, social mores can be misconstrued and misinterpreted as marital affection. Seven times now, right? Well they do say practise makes perfect."

"And I'm incarcerated for what exactly? Poor taste?" The tip of her tongue traced an imaginary flavour from her pouting lips.

"Oi!" he squeaked then straightened his shoulders in a defensive and manly gesture.

"They think you're too old for me or are they worried that our kids would be bullied for peroxide hedgehog hair or go on fire for the amount of product combined with their twin suns?"

"Hedgehog? Don't dis the hair, Rose. This hair has got us out of a lot of scraps."

"Well it does almost look sentient. I've heard of guys thinking with their dicks but not dead hair follicles."

"Hey just be thankful your not with number six. Now that was a bad hair life."

A protective hand tweaked a few errant spikes and Rose couldn't help imagining the Doctor dressed as a 'T-bird' and slipping a comb from one of his, bigger on the inside, pockets. How he ever found anything was beyond her.

"Well, I thought after Nine, you might have no hair!"

"Skinhead does not go with my fine, athletic features and sleek fashion sense and between you and me I've always regenerated with a rather lumpy cranium."

"You've just been dropped on her head one too many times." she quipped.

"Oh, shut it. I've only got ten minutes visiting time and you don't want to know what I had to do just to get that."

Rose grimaced and calmed her girlish giggles into a sophisticated, down to business façade.

"Ok, so way am I in here."

Rose spun neatly in the spot and indicated the claustrophobic six by six foot dank, three sided box before facing the fourth wall of black metallic bars once again.

"Oh didn't I say? We're married."

"And?" This man was exasperating if normally ridiculously intelligent.

"We can't be married." He surmised.

"Ok…"

"Conundrum isn't it? You see marriage on Fourtax is outlawed. Apparently years ago the King and Queen of this province had a falling out. Well he came home from hunting to find her in bed with the pastry chief. Kind of like your human Hispanic pool boy sitcom scenario. Mr. Rumpy Pumpy…"

"Excuse me?"

"Well I don't know his name. Anyway he was from a neighbouring county and the King was so incensed by his wife's betrayal that he summoned the army and followed the fleeing man back to his own environs for some vigilantly justice. However as soon as the cuckold crossed the city limits the King had no jurisdiction, like wild west bandits fleeing to Mexico and so needed his army for persuasion.

Mounting an offensive while his emotional state still rested on the outrage of the chef mounting his wife cost the lives of three hundred men and the King himself on foreign soil. This lead to a fierce counter attack and civil war. Finally the heads of each state talked out their differences and realised that it was a woman's humiliation and the assumption of monogamy and ownership that caused so much bloodshed.

From that day on, marriage was abolished so that no one would again come to blows due to the wiles of a weak and inferior sex. If there was no claim on the woman then there could be no deceit or embarrassment." The Doctor puffed out his cheeks in exaggerated exhalation.

"But on earth, until recently anyway, it brought shame and disgrace to be up the duff unless you were married so what about kids, paternal rights and so forth?"

"Not here. It's free sex here, no ties or commitments just the continuation of the race through anonymous procreation and the female of the species is still regarded as the lesser mate and distrusted like your serpentine apple myth so she's responsible for child care, unless the child is male in which case they cut the apron strings pretty quickly and enrol them in a kind of boarding school."

"Myth?"

"What?" he shrugged.

"A talking snake and tree of omniscient knowledge, please?"

With only ten minutes, Rose was not going to dwell on the Doctor's condescension even though she loved a good argument.

"Ok, so why do they think we're married?"

"You were wearing my jacket. It's a sign of ownership, a claim, if you will."

"So because I was cold, I'm now freezing and behind bars."

"Oh don't worry you won't be here for long."

"Thank goodness." She sighed and held herself tighter.

"They'll transport you to a workers colony for manual labour in the morning."

"What?" The Doctor was unreasonably grateful there were thick metal bars between him and his jeopardy friendly companion as her hand reflexively flexed and tautened into an oncoming, Jackie Tyler slap.

"Hmmm, yes. You're an undesirable element. Can't have you going around riling up the woman folk. The sentence is life without parole, out of sight, out of mind and trouble stirring."

"How come it's only the woman?"

"Don't be silly, Rose."

"Two minutes." A gruff yet petite, as all the natives were, blue myelin-ed jailor growled out.

"What do we do?" Rose's confidence was wavering by the minute and she'd long since succumbed to scratching the itch round her neckline and arms.

"Do?" a confused quirked eyebrow responded.

"Doctor?"

"Oh yes, do. Well I tried to explain that we're not from these parts and were unaware of their customs and of course insisted that we were most definitely not married."

"Did that work?"

The Doctor seemed strangely distracted as he picked at an errant thread of blue from a pinstriped sleeve.

"Weeellll. Yes and no. They showed some understanding for our foreign ignorance but they want proof before they drop the charges."

Rose knew that she didn't want to ask and the question came out clipped and impatient.

"What kind of proof?"

"An experiment in social interaction. The suspected wife, you, gets friendly with one of the locals in one of the many adult bars and the authorities observe the suspected husband's, me, my reaction to test for jealousy or anger."

"How friendly?"

"Time." A bored looking official shuffled the Doctor out of the cell area by the waist as that was all they could reach and Rose was left, mouth aghast to question the empty stale and strange smelling air.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

The bar was hot and clammy with pungent, alien perspiration that hung like suspended moisture droplets in the air and fogged the glasslike panes of the small circular windows. Every surface was lined with black-light tubes which highlighted Rose's pale complexion and blonde hair in almost demonic fashion. At least she was permitted her own clothes, tight faded denim skirt and a square neck, off the shoulder pink top however her exposed skin shone almost a matching Fourtex blue in the UV lights and was speckled with darker blotches where she'd scratched her skin red raw.

There were raised, semi-circular bars dotted along the sides of the room like pulpits or lecterns but brightly fashioned with reflective materials and fairy lights. A distinct buzz thickened the air coming from the throngs of scantily clad patrons who exuding excitement, hormones and sickly sweet liquor.

They were undercover, the Doctor already propped up on a plush, blue, beanie-cushioned, bar stool with one long, slender, shiny, metal leg, sipping cautiously on some luminescent liquid with an umbrella stick attacking the straw. Why do alien planets always adopt the cheesiest of Earth's fashions?

Two obvious officials pretended to be in deep conversation leaning against the wall behind the Doctor's left shoulder and fitted in as much as sharks at a fish party.

The height of the Doctor meant that he was always in view and she felt his intense gaze on the little hairs at the back of her neck as she began to mill through the convulsing crowd, the music high pitched and piercing to her ear drums.

If dread wasn't pooling in her stomach, she would have felt satisfaction as a host of eyes, already at breast level, stared wantonly at the exotic, tall foreigner.

She casually approached one of the blue midgets who seemed to be pondering his very existence in his drink as he sat not far from the Doctor at one of the lively bars.

Rose mentally ran through her old chat up lines and cringed noticeably as, 'Do you come here often?' and 'What's a handsome blue dwarf doing in a place like this?' flitted through her mind. In the end she settled for, 'Hi!'

The despondent alien turned and then craned his neck upwards to see the sexy, sparkling, hazel eyes of his companion.

"Hi!" he grunted.

"You going to drink that or just stare at it?" she offered.

"I like the way the colours melt into deeper hues as the liquid becomes more viscous at the base."

Great, Rose thought, a depressed, art student.

"May I see?"

She leaned in close to his cheek and stroked a delicate finger down the glass collecting the condensing, cool droplets and licking them from her fingertip with a saucy, pink tongue.

"See what you mean. S'pretty. Do you want to dance?"

The alien squirmed a little on his poof and hung his eyes.

"I'm not much of a dancer. I'm sure there are a lot of men in here that would love to dance with you and not embarrass you in the process." As if proving his point he looked around the room to indicate a collection of appreciating eyes.

"But I don't want to dance with them. I choose you."

Rose cradled his chin and smoothed a finger over his cheek bone as she raised his head to look at her.

The man blushed a pretty shade of lilac and smiled softly.

"What's your name?"

"Ranec."

"I'm Rose."

"Rose," he whispered reverently.

She took his hand and gently pulled him up, casting a brief desperate glance at the Doctor who seemed bored and fed up. Rose placed her hands on his shoulders and began to sway seductively, rotating her hips to the sedate beat.

Blowing her hair out of her eyes and looking briefly at the ceiling for inspiration, she pressed her body closer to Ranec's, almost smothering him in her cleavage.

Hesitantly he wrapped his arms about her waist and sunk into her curves.

In the corner their out of place adjudicators fixed the Doctor with intent glares.

The Doctor merely shrugged his shoulders and picked up his drink for another swallow.

Thankful that in this position Ranec could not see her face, Rose grimaced as she slid one hand off his shoulder and down his back to rest on and squeeze his pert alien bottom.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and chuckled at the scene while the officers mimicked tennis viewers snapping their heads from Rose's wandering hand, to the Doctor's expression, and back to that hand that was now joined with its partner.

She massaged his ass in neat, little, controlled circles as Ranec began to breathe heavier and run his hands down to the swell of her bottom. In all but face, Rose was the clever seducer however, creepy distaste and self-disgust warred in her features.

When Ranec looked up, she looked down with determination and a coy smile.

He was fondling every piece of skin exposed to the harsh light now, and eagerly began to lap at her chest as one hand pulled down her neckline.

The Doctor still looked unaffected. If anything he looked amused and embarrassed to be seen with her. The authorities were scowling and muttering.

Ranec tugged at Rose's shoulder and bent her head down to kiss him. At first it was conservative and polite but as she looked at the Doctor and he was half watching and half giggling with a miniscule, red head she deepened the kiss feeling humiliated and rejected.

Rose knew that the point of this operation was not to incense the Doctor or she'd be stuck, the tall odd-one-out, in a chain gang in some god forsaken hell-hole but she couldn't help herself. Self–destruction be damned. That unflappable man came for a show and he'd get one.

Suddenly blue and pink tongues battled in passion and hands pulled and ripped at clothing. Rose licked and nibbled at Ranec's Vulcanesque ears, whispering filth she remembered from watching bad porn with Mickey and Ranec in turn slid his grubby alien hand up the inside of her thigh and popped a wanton nipple into his mouth.

Rose sighed louder than necessary and threw her head back as a small hand crept inside her knickers. She groaned, rubbing her legs together and placing the hand exactly where she wanted it to be – at least an inch above anywhere it would be productive. She was an alien. The Fourtax didn't know anything about human sex and if she was convincing enough they'd never need to.

She began to buck her hips and clung obscenely to the lucky leprechaun. She whimpered and gasped and writhed and finally screamed and walked over to sag against the bar. Her demonstrative behaviour had set off a domino affect in the gang of gyrators and a sexual soundtrack filled the air.

The jailors sighed and left and Rose panted and calmed, cuddling the ecstatic alien in her arms.

Glancing at the Doctor his expression shifted with unbelievable speed to one of utter disgust and outrage and soon he was by her side gripping painfully at a wrist and tugging it and its owner out into the frosty night.

Once free of the club, the Doctor dropped her hand and stalked off in the direction of the T.A.R.D.I.S. She had to jog slightly to catch up, the excursion at least producing some heat in her muscles.

"Can I borrow your jacket?" she joked, prancing along beside him.

"No. I don't know where you've been," he ground out and picked up his pace once the familiar, blue box was in sight, easily out striding her, unlocking and slamming the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The T.A.R.D.I.S. began to immediately dematerialise and Rose ran in shock and fear to reach the sturdy enclosures of what had quickly become her home.

By the time she reached the spot, the ship was almost out of sight but solidified as she reached a desperate hand out to touch it. Hurt beyond belief, she realised that it was the T.A.R.D.I.S. that had reacted to her and come back and not the Doctor.

Rose stormed up the ramp, shaking in shook and shivering cold.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted.

"Leaving," was the terse reply.

"Without me?" She headed him off as he galloped and whirled around the console, colliding with his rigid, lean form.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself. Far be it for me to drag you away."

He wouldn't meet her gaze and she was left looking at the jumping muscle spasm in his clenched jaw-line.

"You can't be serious. I just did what you told me to do."

"I didn't know you'd be quite so enthusiastic and excited by the idea. You didn't have to go anywhere near that far to prove our point. For fuck's sake, Rose. You were screaming like a bitch in heat."

Rose just stood there stunned for several moments as the Doctor did his best to ignore her proximity and fiddled and flipped switches and levers.

At last with incredulous, tear filled eyes, Rose responded in kind with a disbelieving sigh and a contemptuous, "You bastard" before turning and heading for her room.

The Doctor grabbed her before she got any distance with such force she really believed he was going to hit her.

"At least I'm not a fucking whore," he spat.

Rose was shuddering for toe to tip from cold, from shock, from anger, even she didn't know but she refused to back away from confrontation.

"What the hell was I supposed to do? You'd rather I was some worker drone in a slave prison? I had no choice."

"Wrong, Rose. We always have a choice. Sometimes a good person has to do bad things for good reasons but a good person feels regret, guilt and shame not lust and pleasure in perverse exhibitionism with someone she doesn't know or give a dam about."

He was right up in her face, gripping her upper arms and literally shaking sense into her. Rose had never seen him look so disappointed and hurt, certainly not because of her.

"You really think I had a good time? That that was fun for me? Do you know me at all?"

Tears stung in her eyes as the pain in the knowledge that he had so little faith and belief in her sunk in. She looked so hurt, so defeated that the Doctor relaxed his hold and rubbed gently at her arms where bruises were already beginning to form.

"You didn't?" He knew it was the wrong thing to say but he had to know.

"Of course not! I was just playing a part. What about you? What part were you playing? You looked as if you couldn't care less. I was so scared and felt so violated and humiliated and I so, so needed you to care."

Rose sobbed freely now hanging her head in shame and self-loathing.

The Doctor tilted her chin up to look at him, his eyes now apologetic and concerned. He softly stoked her hair and spoke soothingly and quietly.

"Of course I cared. It burnt a hole in my chest seeing you cheapen and degrade yourself like that. I was supposed to take care of you but I just keep hurting you, exposing you and corrupting you with sights that no one should ever have to see or endure. I just couldn't show you. I had to stay calm or I'd lose you. They were watching my every move."

Rose emitted choking little sobs as she nodded her head in understanding.

"It wasn't your fault, Doctor, none of it."

He framed her face with tender cradling hands and looked again at the young human child with awe and admiration.

She blanched at his scrutiny, mumbling, "I feel dirty. I'm going to take a shower." Before extracting herself from his hold and stumbling into the darkness of the inner belly of the ship. The Doctor was left to mournfully watch her retreating form.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

"You feel warmer?"

Rose was sitting snuggled in her fleecy, bath robe at the edge of her bed seemingly lost in thought and didn't hear him enter her private bedroom.

"Yeah, thanks." Her words were empty and subdued.

The Doctor crossed cautiously to her side of the bed and sunk slowly into the velvety mattress.

She jumped a little and both mentally and physically shrugged deeper into her gown.

The Doctor braced his fingers in a little, steeple arch between his legs and surveyed her subtly. She was tense, defensive, legs crossed away from him, body half turned and arms crossed grabbing too tightly at her shoulders.

"You want some speciality, T.A.R.D.I.S. secret recipe hot chocolate, might take the edge off?" he tried brightly.

Her head snapped round, "Off what?"

"Ah…the cold." He mussed at his hair. "I could get her to up the temperature a bit. She only messes around with the thermostat in my room."

Rose turned away again satisfied and shrugged and the Doctor felt like his eyes were heavy and unusually attracted to the floor.

"I'm sorry if you felt uncomfortable…"

"Uncomfortable?" The piercing blank stare was bank and he could almost see the bricks being laid in concrete behind her eyes.

"Yeah, you know, when he was touching…"

"I don't want to talk about it."

She hastily stood, grabbed a pair of pyjamas from her bottom draw and disappeared back into the bathroom. The Doctor sat in silence unsure what to do but after a few moments he heard plaintive sobs from behind the door and stood and knocked.

"Rose."

"Go away."

"Not 'til you let me see you're ok."

"I'm fine. Just getting ready for bed."

His hand had gone reflexively to the handle and he debated whether to push down or retreat.

He pushed.

She was sitting on the toilet seat, her robe on the floor, in 'man in the moon', pink pyjamas which usually made her look adorable. Tonight, however she looked so small, fragile and childlike and the mocking moons' smiles laughed at him.

He came immediately to her side and knelt on the floor taking her hands wherein a scrumpled up, soggy piece of toilet roll dwelt.

"It's ok, Rose. It's over. I'm here and you're safe."

She let out an undignified snuffle.

"I'm so sorry, Rose. I never wanted to hurt you or make you feel helpless or degraded. I have so much respect for you. I could never see you as weak. You keep me strong, always bouncing back and laughing and taking care of me and I'm so, so sorry that I failed you, sweetheart."

Her body shook as she looked at him, "I'm just being stupid" and she turned away, embarrassed.

"No, no, Rose, you're not." He stood, pulling her up with him and taking her in his arms.

He lead her quietly back to the bed and pulled back the sheets to tuck her in.

"I just feel dirty. I mean I didn't let him actually touch me. I gave him false directions but still. I mean it wasn't like when you've touched me, always so careful and clinical when I get hurt, making sure I feel comfortable and not exposed. There was intent, you know, the situation made it sexual and he was getting off on it. It's not his fault, I started it but it felt like he was taking something personal, something mine and tainting it, that he had no right to use me as some porn fantasy. And I'm scared it's changed the way you see me as well. I mean I know I had to do it but it felt despicable and selfish. It's weird, if I had to do it for you, if it was saving you and not me, I think I'd be ok 'cause I'd have had a good reason and you just sat there like some slimy punter in that sleazy bar where people came for sex like it was a trip to the zoo. I know you couldn't help me but I couldn't help wanting you to. To make me believe it upset you."

She was ripping that wretched looking tissue paper into shreds and talking a mile a minute, whatever came into her mind, jilted and disconnected but the Doctor was so happy that she was talking and even more so that she felt she could still talk to him.

"Of course it upset me. Rose, I felt sick and angry and hurt at the thought of you sharing something so personal and intimate with some grabby, blue idiot that didn't appreciate you or even you - how extraordinary you are."

"I'm really very ordinary, Doctor."

"Not to me." He blushed, the words leaving his lips before his magnificent brain could censor them.

For a beat they just held one another's eyes.

"You want to know what I see when I look at you now?"

Rose couldn't hold his gaze afraid of what he might say and yet knowing that he'd never deliberately hurt her. He wasn't going to shame her or mock her, or hate her. He would try to make her feel better but she wasn't sure she wanted that either. Hamlet said 'words, words, words' and that's all they are, full of giddy air, symbolising nothing. She wanted honesty. She wanted something real and not to be treated to a disingenuous Doctor. She wanted to feel more like herself and not further removed.

"You are so beautiful." The statement came out in a breath that brushed her skin and feathered over the contours of her face as if the words simply always escaped on the breeze, unspoken but always present.

The Doctor, oh so gently, stroked a light finger over her moist cheek. She felt like she should jump. Even her own touch had felt disembodied and unwelcome but this was so unlike the firm pressure from earlier that her senses opened to it like a cape daisy, opening and closing by sun rise and set and he was her light.

"My Rose." He seemed hypnotised.

"Sorry," he cleared his throat. "Not mine. I'm not saying you belong to me like some possession or….hmmm…sometimes I find words difficult." The blush was back and he looked so frustrated that she had to grace him with a smile.

"All those things that I mentioned I felt?" she nodded her understanding. "Well I also felt…jealous. Which is ridiculous," he hastened to add. "Time Lord's don't do jealousy."

"Or pouting, or snoring, or confusing the 20th century with the 19th, or..."

"Ok, you can stop now."

She laughed despite herself.

"What I mean to say is, I find your presence conducive to my well being and esteem your opinion of me, as a man, more than is appropriate for a superior in intellect and years."

She stared open mouthed at him. "That's what you MEAN to say? Wow. How's a girl supposed to react to that?"

"Oh no, no, no, no…I…you…" she was laughing freely at his discomfort now and although he was glad to see her enjoying herself, even at his expense, this was no laughing matter so he kissed her.

To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It wasn't exactly some fairy tale moment suspended in time. Rose was mid guffaw and head butted him on the nose as he swooped in and her mouth was open in shook as he tried to press their lips together but she did fall suddenly silent.

"I MEAN that being around you makes me feel so lucky. Even in our worst most distressing moments, I'm happier than I can remember in a long time, just being near you. I've grown to depend on your smile, your hand to hold. Grown to love the way your eyes widen and I can hear your strong, generous heart speed up as you fling open the T.A.R.D.I.S. doors.

I look forward to the sleepy smell on your skin when you pad into the kitchen of a morning in a foul mood demanding coffee. The way your eyes sparkle when they tease me. The way you tease me full stop. Never afraid to be yourself and open yourself so completely to me and trust so blindly that I'll take what I see and cherish it, bad or good. I spend my life running and you make me want to walk to examine and appreciate everything, even myself – the one person I've never been able to get away from.

Tonight, when I saw him touching you…I…you deserve to be worshipped. I wanted to show you, to touch you but I don't deserve to and I'm so scared. If you knew me, Rose…"

Her breathing was laboured and fast. She felt like she was alive for the very first time like that saying 'if a tree falls in the woods does it make a sound?', if there's no one there to hear or see does it even matter, does anything we do matter except in the sharing of it and here he was SEEING her.

"I see you, Doctor, all of you. Touch me. Show me you still see me even after…"

"Oh, Rose." His sigh was so deep it was like the universe had been holding its breath and released with him.

"I've lost so much. I can't risk losing you too. You don't know what that would do to me and someday, even if it's not your choice, you're going to leave me. How can I open my hearts to emptiness when they've only just learnt again what it's like to be full?"

"How can you not?"

She cradled his perfect, freckled face and realised it was her turn to be the teacher.

"Emotions, love, make life worth living. You spend you're existence fighting for the simple right for people to live. The more you wall yourself up and distance yourself from anything and everything that might hurt you, the further from living you get and one day you'll be so ignorant of emotions, love, feeling that you'll come to see life as unimportant 'cause you'll have forgotten what it means to live. The very thing you fight for will become meaningless unless you experience it. You love so much and without distinction. How can you be you without love? "

His eyes were so wide, the whites so pure and stark and vulnerable in a way that even her brief brush with the loss of control and self that she suffered tonight could never hope to compete.

"I love you, Doctor. I'm so sorry. I let things go too far tonight to try to make you notice me. I brought all this on myself. I was behaving like some tart. You're not the one that isn't deserving."

Her hands fell limbless, defeated away from their soothing exploration of his imperfect yet beautiful features and soft side burns.

"Oh, Rose. I always notice you. Too much half the time. It's getting dangerous to be around me 'cause I'm so bloody distracted."

He whispered a kiss to her downcast forehead and she raised her face. He met her eyes with such an intense gaze before fluttering a kiss to first one cheek then the other, oh so slow, then her nose, blotchy and pink from crying. Then her chin, pausing before her lips, their lungs expelled air that surged and danced together in the smallest gap that remained between.

This time the kiss was timeless. Her soft lips gave under his steadily increasing pressure. Their skin grew moist as their shared air condensed in the heat. His palm cradled her face and her arms looped round his neck, forgetting their protective hold on her body, and playing languidly with the downy, velvet hairs at his nape.

Together they rocked gracefully in an age-old trance as she parted her lips and gave him her mouth; as he took from her and then she from him, as tongues entwined, tickling a roof here, brushing, plunging and pillaging there, tracing teeth and cheeks and stoking a slow fire that spread a red blush down both necks and chests.

Someone was going to have to remember to breathe and distantly Rose realised it had to be her but she pulled him down to the mattress on top of her before daring to part so at least if the Doctor was going to make a stammering retreat, he had further to go.

He didn't, just smiled a goofy smile as she panted for air and he looked so thoroughly snogged, his plump bottom lip even more swollen and red than usual.

His finger lightly traced the curve of her neck from below her ear and back sending shivers and jolts of sensitivity and pleasure through her body. Lips eagerly followed the trail, sucking and kissing achingly slow down to the top of her pyjama shirt.

His fingertips trailed across her clothed breasts and down her sides, the pressure so light it didn't seem real, just a caressing breeze. One hand carefully splaying out on her taut stomach, sneaking under the hem of her shirt, while the other circled her nipples through the cotton, tickling more than touching. Rose sighed and stretched with feline grace and gluttony, feeling so relaxed. The Doctor had been so engrossed in watching the rippling shivers tantalising his Rose than he seemed to jump at the deft sound.

"Hello," he looked up at her sheepishly with heavy lidded eyes.

"Hi," she breathed, a lip caught between her teeth in the most adorable expression of womanly shyness.

"Sorry, seemed to get lost a moment there."

"I wasn't complaining. Though, you're not possessed are you?"

He chuckled at that though not loudly enough to fully break this webbing spell they both seemed wrapped up in.

"Definitely not!"

"Owhh! You pinched me!" He feigned indignance, well looking as indignant as a man could, lazing on top of a beautiful woman with his hair in completely ruffled disarray.

"Just checking."

"Why, you…" he attacked her sides feverishly as she giggled and squirmed.

"Please…stop…Doctor…please."

He stilled. "Begging already, Rose? I'd rather make you scream!" He waggled his eyebrows as he dove in for a much more heated and passionate kiss. Teeth clicked and tongues missed mouths and bodies pressed so tight, so close as both grasped violently at clothes and limbs for even closer contact.

His momentum had them both rolling over until Rose gulped in mouthfuls of air as she sat up, straddling him. She looked so beautiful but slightly uncertain, even surprised? The clever nymph, trained by his scientific research, ground her pelvic bone hard into the hardening body beneath which convulsively arched off the bed with a breathless groan and the gripping of thighs.

Her expression turned to a surprised 'O' as she smirked down at the captive below who was trying desperately to regain some semblance of control.

"God, you're so sexy, Doctor, all flushed and wanton. So hard beneath me, there's nothing sexier than that pressure, the friction, the almost pain, that drives you out of your mind with need. You don't really believe until then that it's real."

Rose experimented with a tight figure of eight and some conventional grinds that had the Doctor actually whimpering, sweating and choking deliciously on his own breath.

"Rose," he panted. "You're going to kill me."

"Getting a little long in the tooth, Doctor?"

"Ha…minx!"

He bent his knees and dug in his heels to piston her forwards onto his chest then swiftly flipped her onto her back, pinning her slender wrists upside her head. The 'oomph' of air leaving her lungs had him momentarily concerned but when he looked down into her startled eyes and saw them quickly glaze over into something predatory and full of intent, he brushed it aside.

A pinstriped knee was forced between her legs and instinctively Rose found herself brazenly rubbing against it. She was so wet, so ready for him. So many nights she'd wake expecting to smell his scent on her skin but always, always, she was disappointed.

The air rasped in her throat, halfway between breathing and moaning and he silenced her with a fiery kiss. Together they rid her of her childish, but appropriately happy, pyjamas and tugged at his tie. An awkward moment of near strangulation had them laughing, breaking the dam of wonderment and disbelief.

Finally clothes were shed and he hovered above her enraptured by the gift and trust she so freely bestowed. He kneaded her breasts, felt them spill through his squeezing fingers as hers entangled and strained in the pink sheet.

With patience he didn't know he possessed he kissed a line down her body veering off at her centre and continuing down each leg in turn as she lay back and let his presence envelope all of her senses.

As he hovered over her curls she threaded a hand into sex damp hair not wanting to pressure him but needing him so badly it hurt. He seemed lost in thought and contemplation, his erection strained and blushing, bulbous red.

Rose actually sobbed as the Doctor drew himself back up her body and just mindlessly stroked her golden hair with such affection and, dare she dream, love? His eyes held such vast galaxies of star dust and fallen comets, such childlike hope and such weary sorrow and pain that she found herself trembling beneath him in sympathy and adoration.

They seemed cocooned in a moment neither wanted to end but pure pleasure forced her eyes closed as the Doctor deftly discovered her swollen clit and grazed it with electric touches.

Rose grabbed onto him with both arms and held on as if her life depended on it as he tortured her with pure pleasure, stroking and circling that tender fusion of nerves until she was bucking and panting and pleading in a strangled voice that she barely recognized as her own.

Two fingers sunk into her then and his face betrayed such awe and joy (and not a little smugness) that she had to bury her head in the crook of his neck, kissing and searching, reaching every part of him that she could to return the favour.

It was too much. She had never felt anything like this before. She was no blushing virgin but the idea that sex could be like this; that her body could react and respond so violently, so blissfully just to touch, was incredible.

"Please," she begged on an errant breath. "Doctor…I need you inside me. Please need to feel…you…so empty…"

He breathed in the scent of her shampoo, nuzzling and kissing through her hair to her face, to her lips as he lined himself up and sunk into her with the most beautiful expression and sigh.

He too seemed transformed as he stared at her in shock and they both laughed at their stupidity and ignorance, their side stepping and avoidance.

Tears silently battled sweat and sex to mark a path down Rose's face and he held her gaze with such contentment and passion as he slowly withdrew before thrusting back in, making her whole body pulsate and arch.

Neither could remain silent. Their cries drowned out the rhythmic thrum of the T.A.R.D.I.S. as they set their own rhythm of the night. Slow and composed at first, then erratic and uncontrolled.

"Harder, please," she begged.

Rose twined her legs behind his hips, held onto his shoulders as he pulled out carefully and plunged back so impossibly deep, her body jerked as her lungs cried out for air. It hurt, like a dull throbbing pain, a sensitive bruise but God, she couldn't get enough.

"Again."

He grunted his effort in laboured breaths by her ear as he hammered into her, teeth clenched and body rigid. She felt so good and he was so thick and tight and she was screaming and clawing at his back just to stay earthbound. He actually growled as her nails scrapped his skin and sped up his pace to impossible pleasure.

Rose tried to contract and squeeze her muscles around him, make it as good for him as she possibly could but this was a storm and all she could do was tether herself to her life raft. The incredible friction against her clit was driving her wild as each thrust shook her to the very core.

Eventually neither could take anymore, screaming their release and clutching at one another as if they were afraid to ever let go.

As perspiration cooled on their clammy skin Rose shuddered involuntarily rousing the Doctor from the jig-saw of conjoined limbs and he pulled up the duvet and settled onto his back pulling Rose to his chest.

"Wow" she finally panted.

"Yeah!"

As their eyes meet, his darted away and Rose held her breathe.

"Hmm…" he raked a hand through his hair and billowed the top of the blanket a few times to let in some air. "Was that ok, I mean, it's been a while, and…hmmm, I'll do better?"

Rose couldn't help it, she burst out laughing which was probably not the best answer judging by the look on his face. Finally between fits she managed, "Ok? Hell yeah that was ok! That was amazing. You are amazing."

The Doctor let out a sigh and visibly relaxed before starting to laugh at her laughter.

After the hilarity subsided they lay peacefully in each other arms.

"You do know that that was more than just sex, right? I mean, not that I, I loved being with you, but…"

"Oh…" Rose pouted, "and I thought you were just trying to make me feel better." But after a beat she added, "I love you too."

She didn't expect him to respond but after a few moments of sleep and sex induced stupor he whispered in something akin to awe.

"I'm not sure I know how love feels anymore but I think I've been learning without ever even realising it. Good night, my Rose."

The End


End file.
